


Arrangements

by Cân Cennau (cancennau)



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, House Cleaning, M/M, Talking, all non-python ships are mentioned only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 16:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15999446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancennau/pseuds/C%C3%A2n%20Cennau
Summary: Pythagoras tidies. Jason makes noise. At some point, they talk.





	Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foolishle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishle/gifts).



> This is my New Year's Resolution for Yuletide! \o/ Last year I had to default late on a pinch hit, and now I'm making up for it.
> 
> Follows foolishle's 2014 Atlantis prompt: 
> 
> _I love how different these two people are (literally from different worlds!). They like and value each others differences and yay._
> 
> _I love to read about these two falling in love and being ridiculous, but I also like to read their banter as they clean up after Hercules._

If there was anything Jason missed from the modern world, it was being able to wake up in a house that didn’t get itself trashed by one or more of its drunk occupants.

The source of this morning’s mess was, as it usually was, Hercules. Hercules swore that at the crack of dawn, he’d been awoken and chased around the house by  _ Aetos Dios,  _ a giant eagle, before he killed it with a rolling pin. Pythagoras and Jason, and those outside the tavern, said he’d wandered into the wrong garden and had been chased by one of Meteos’ prize chickens, and that Meteos would be on the warpath for whoever stole it come daytime. Either way, after a sumptuous  breakfast of roast bird, Hercules had locked himself in his room to ‘pick up eagle feathers’, leaving Pythagoras and Jason to clean up the blood and the bottles. There was no doubt in Jason’s mind that Hercules was now sleeping off one hell of a hangover.

“We’re never letting Hercules drink hooch again.” Pythagoras grumbled, plucking feathers from his scrolls.  _ “Never.” _

“Come on, Pythagoras,” Jason replied, glancing his way. “You can’t say you weren’t amused by Hercules being terrorized by a  _ chicken. _ ”

“I would’ve been more amused had it not been a little earlier than  _ dawn. _ ”

“Did you miss out on your beauty sleep?” Jason passed by him with an armful of rubbish, being certain to bump Pythagoras’ shoulder as he did so. “ _ Tragic _ .”

Pythagoras rolled his eyes. “ _ Terrible  _ that I actually want to have a good night’s sleep once in a while, I know.”

Jason snorted. “I’m taking this outside. Anything you want me to take from your side?”

“I’m good - but could you bring in an empty sack? We can put the bottles in there.”

Jason stepped outside and poured his armful of rubbish into one of the designated sacks. The streets were vacant at this time of morning, and Jason’s jaunty whistle echoed off abandoned crates and empty street as he picked up an empty sack and inspected it for holes. Happy with his acquisition, he wandered back inside, where Pythagoras was rearranging empty bottles. The other man seemed not to notice his re-entry until Jason laid a warm hand on the small of his back, and even then he finished his bottle arrangement first, before turning to Jason with a sunny smile.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Jason tipped his head a little, and pressed a kiss to Pythagoras’ golden curls, before moving away. “Shall I start with the bottles in the corner?”

“If you could.” Pythagoras frowned at the bottles in question, which sat on a small side table. “I think some of those still have hooch in.”

“Hmm.” Jason strolled over, and lifted one to inspect it. “You’re right. Should we keep it?”

“That would make it easier for Hercules to get drunk.”

“He’ll get drunk anyway. Saving it might mean he stays with us and doesn’t get into trouble at the tavern.”

Pythagoras thought for a moment. “Alright,” he finally said. “There’s a jug over here-”

Pythagoras sifted through a few bottles, and pulled a tan jug from behind them. Jason stepped over to him, and retrieved the jug with a nod, their fingers brushing. With a quick check to ensure that there was nothing in the jug, he wandered back to his pile of bottles.

He picked up one bottle, but as he went to pour, he was struck by a sudden idea. Feeling a little playful, Jason turned the half filled bottle in his hand, and blew slightly across the lip of the bottle. It gave a low whistle, like a wind chime, and Jason smiled. He did it again, and again, and then again with another bottle, which gave a slightly higher sound. When he picked up a third bottle to test its sound too, Pythagoras popped his head up over the lip of the table to give him a glare.

“ _ Please.  _ Not this early in the morning.”

Jason laughed. “Why not?” He blew on the third bottle, which made a high-pitched sound. “I’ve found our new jobs.”

“What, making music when we should be tidying?”

“Making music from bottles.” Jason paused for a moment, and attempted to blow some semblance of a tune on the bottles. “It would be great fun.”

“And folk at the tavern would listen to that?”

“I don’t see why not. There’s a role for all of us to play too - Hercules can drink the hooch down to the right level, I can play them, and you…”

Pythagoras had one eyebrow raised at him. “And me?”

“And you can… sing?”

The other eyebrow joined the first.

“Dance?”

And now Pythagoras was folding his arms.

“...do our finances?”

That made Pythagoras laugh. “As if I  _ don’t  _ do that already.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll take that as a  _ no  _ to the bottle band.” Jason turned and poured the leftover hooch into a jug. He did this with every bottle, and by the time he was done, Pythagoras had dragged the bottle sack over, and held it open so Jason could tip his glass load in there. The crunch of glass rang through the air as Pythagoras pulled the drawstrings of the sack closed, and knotted it neatly.

“I’d support you, you know,” Pythagoras said, straightening up. “If you  _ did  _ want to start a bottle band.”

Jason laughed, and pulled Pythagoras close. “Thank you,” he said, warm and comforting. “But I can barely hold a tune. I think I once made a girl date me out of pity when I played a song on my guitar for her.”

“Guitar?”

“Like a lute.”

“You say such strange things sometimes.” There was no confusion in Pythagoras’ voice, just the mild exasperation of a patient lover. “Maybe your bad playing will cheer Hercules up.”

“Perhaps…” Jason rested his head on Pythagoras’ curls, and looked towards Hercules’ closed door. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“After Medusa?” Jason could feel Pythagoras frown beneath his cheek. “I don’t even think the Oracle predicted that Medusa would end up seducing the crown princess.”

“I definitely didn’t.” Jason snorted. “It must have come as a bit of a nasty shock to Hercules.”

“Mmm.” He paused. “I think he’ll be alright.”

“You do?”

“You recovered alright after Ariadne told you. And besides, I know they’re not exclusive. I think they’ll work something out with Hercules in the end. An… alternative arrangement.”

“An alternative arrangement.” Jason chuckled, and leant back to smile at Pythagoras. “Like what I found with you?”

“Something like that.”

The sun finally rose enough to illuminate the room through the window, and in its rays Jason kissed Pythagoras, feeling contented.

Everything would be alright in the end.


End file.
